


What Makes Her Safe

by verucasalt123



Series: What Makes Her [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angry Stiles, Awesome Derek, Ficlet, Kid Fic, M/M, Scared Stiles, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somebody creeps on Stiles and Derek's kid in the grocery store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Makes Her Safe

**Author's Note:**

> A few years in the future from "What Makes Her Happy" (http://archiveofourown.org/works/1006286). Can be read as stand-alone.

Taking turns was the only logical solution. Stiles and Derek hated grocery shopping with an equal passion but food had to make its way into their house someway. 

 

Once the surprise of their lives showed up there was really no other choice. Not only did they have to keep the house stocked with diapers and pacifiers, but they couldn’t even settle for just easy shit that came from boxes and cans. They had to shop for food. Healthy food. With a list to match up with the planned weekly dinner menu (Stiles often asked himself when they turned into _those guys_ ). Derek learned to cook, but insisted that Stiles had to do his fair share, so Stiles learned too. 

 

This week it was Stiles’ turn to make the trip to Whole Foods. Lucy was too big, at almost four, to sit in the grocery cart anymore, and Derek steadfastly refused all of Stiles’ suggestions to keep her on a leash when they went out. (He had been joking anyway. Mostly.) Clearing the produce section, they headed toward the pasta aisle. Lucy was supposed to keep one hand _on the shopping cart_ at all times, it was a permanent rule and she knew it, but when Stiles turned around to dump three boxes of penne into the cart, she wasn’t there. 

 

Lucy’s tendency to get distracted and wander off had been worse than Stiles’ ever was at that age. Probably because it was overridden by his desire not to piss off his parents. Lucy, however, had two parents who were so completely wrapped around her finger that the slightest little lip wibble stopped just about any reprimand in its tracks. And she was old enough to be aware it. 

 

Panic was, of course, Stiles’ first reaction, but he tried to keep it manageable. His back had been turned for approximately thirty seconds, so she was probably just on the next aisle. Hopefully not climbing the shelves. He called her name but there was no response. Leaving the shopping cart behind, he rushed around the corner, then the next one before he got his eyes on her. His relief was short-lived, however, when he saw a man crouched down to her level, speaking quietly to her. 

 

Stiles had been through a lot for a guy in his twenties – scary shit, ugly fights, losing people he loved – but never, not for one minute, had he ever felt more angry than he did at that sight. Sharply, he snapped “Lucy! Get over here next to me right now!”

 

She smiled up at him and said, calmly, “Sorry Daddy. I was just talking to this nice man. He said I was pretty.”

 

_He said I was pretty_

 

Stiles took three quick strides forward and knocked the man onto the floor by kicking his feet out from under him. The look on his face must have communicated his unspeakable rage, because the stranger started crab-walking in the opposite direction until he got enough strength to stand and run. Stiles couldn’t exactly go after him, because he had to grab Lucy, pick her up, squeeze her tightly against him. He wanted to remind her about how she’d been told to stay next to him, never to talk to strangers, a hundred other things, but he was so overwhelmed with anger that he was afraid to speak. He just left the cart and drove home. His daughter clearly felt the tension because she was silent for the whole ride. 

 

When the two of them got back to their house, Derek knew something was wrong before Stiles even opened the front door. Once he actually saw his husband, he sent Lucy to her room and sat him down on the couch. 

 

“Okay, you’re about to have a panic attack. What the fuck, Stiles?” He was impatient, sure that something had gone terribly wrong for Stiles to come home from the store with no food and in such an emotional state, but Derek knew he had to let him get his thoughts together. Once he did, he recounted the incident and by the end there were tears in his eyes. Derek pulled him into an embrace, trying to comfort him, but it didn’t seem to help much.

 

“I’ve never wanted teeth and claws like yours the way I did in that moment. It was like I could almost feel myself growing them in this protective instinct…”

 

“God, Stiles, I’m sorry, I wish I could have been there-”

 

“No Derek, that’s not what I mean. When it was happening, in my mind, I wasn’t thinking I wished you were there, I was thinking I wished _I really did have them_. Which was almost as terrifying as some creepy stranger telling Lucy she was pretty when she was standing alone in a store.”

 

Derek was quiet for a minute, then quietly said, “The offer still stands, you know. Not that I wouldn’t miss you, the you I’ve always known, but if you ever changed your mind…I don’t know. I guess it’s just not a decision I would want you to make in the middle of a crisis.”

 

Stiles closed his eyes, and finally relaxed against Derek. “I know. And you’re right. I’ve never been so desperate to rip a person to shreds before.”

 

“Desire to kill is no reason to take the bite, Stiles. You’re kidding yourself if you think you’re any less capable of protecting our child than I am. You don’t need physical claws and fangs to do that. Lucy and I love her daddy just the way he is. You and I are going to have to quit indulging her so much.”

 

“Easier said than done, babe”, Stiles responded with a small smile.

 

“Sure, but it’s another way to keep her safe, one that you can do as well as I ever could, probably better”, Derek said, reluctantly admitting, “You are _slightly_ less of a pushover than I am.”


End file.
